The temperature didn’t have a second digit in front of it, nor did it have a minus sign behind it. The wind blew softly enough to tickle versus removing layers of skin as it blew from East to West. The snow had a Select Comfort feel to it without the $1,500 buttons to adjust firmness. For a fraction of the cost, extra white stuff could be packed in by two eager kids bundled up to enjoy the Minnesota winter.
Sledding, the first snowball which disappeared mid-flight due to fluffiness, the first snow tunnel since the accumulation was now deep enough to warrant such architectural creations. A quiet five minutes looking straight up at the bottomless blue sky allowed the stress of the holiday to seep right into my newly formed mattress of snowflakes.
The holidays used to mean to me presents, more presents, and stuffing yourself silly with cookies that were carefully baked over the course of two weeks. Now, it’s about observing, giving, and sitting on the couch with a decent brew or drink (hot apple cider plus Captain Morgan = win). Watching the kids emulate their best Wolverine moves against my wife’s best Christmas present wrapping jobs finally brought a quick smile to my face in what has been a struggle to keep my sanity. The robot, the video game, the Barbie three-wheeled scooter so the two of them could collect asphalt burns at the same time brought .2 seconds of glee from their faces followed by “where’s my next present?!?!”. My wife got a present from the kids, as she got mad at the idea of present from me since we agreed not to exchange gifts (due to purchasing a certain TV in the last picture in this post) and she’ll be getting her hair done at the kids’ expense*. Me? I asked my wife for something that carries no monetary value and something that cannot be given at any one time. It’s something I have hoped for a long time and something that will hopefully come sooner then later.
Then as the day came to a close, the leftover brown sugar coated bacon-weenie wraps and other nutritionally sound food were put away, the newly acquired popcorn popper got its first test run.
Two Academy Award winning features were put up on the Christmas gift me and the wife chose a few weeks ago. Ok, it was Tom and Jerry in The Cat Concerto (1946) and The Little Orphan (1948). By the time the Interpol warnings of piracy came in French after the first picture, three people had to be stirred from their slumber to close the books on another holiday season.
Since I wasn’t available yesterday to give a holiday shout out. Merry Christmas/Happy Boxing Day to all my friends who read here. Know that you are a big reason why there’s a smile on my face this morning despite being surrounded by four walls of work this morning.
* not really, but they paid .05% of it and let their mother know it
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